Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Mamma's, let's talk...

Please know, I thought long and hard about how to bring this up without being cruel or unfair. We all have our personal tastes and styles and I'm a proponent of live and let live, until you and your behaviorally challenged children annoy me in the grocery store, aisle after aisle. So, if you don't like this post, chaulk it up to you and I agreeing to disagree. Sorry in advance for any offense that may occur.


Names like Nevaeh, Destiny, and Kiearah, and Brianna, Braden, Tyler, Taylor, Caden, Connor, Preston, Paxton, Peyton, and Jayden - are beyond trendy but they're horrible names on top of that.

Some of the problem is the way they are prounounced...
"BREEEEEAAAAAHHHHNNNAAA!" in a nasally whine...
OH GOD! SCRATCH MY EYES OUT!

I grew up with a fairly traditional but at the time very trendy name (Jessica) and it drove me nuts. By the time I was in 4th grade there were about 30 Jessica's in my elementary school. The rest were named Jennifer, Lisa, Michelle or Amy. All of us hated it! To add insult to injury - we all had the same two middle names: Marie or Ann.

I know that not everyone wants a traditional name, or they're going for something unique but lift your head out of the sand. These names are so overused right now - Are you intentionally naming your kids after Britney's?

I do have a list of names that I find fundamentally acceptable, and in some cases I really like them, but I cannot believe the amount of overuse they get right now:

Addison

Grace

Lily

Emma

Emily

Hannah

Rose - more as a middle name

Olivia

Ava

Reece (girl or boy)

Savannah

Tristan

Connor

Brody

Brady

Abby

Violet

Jack and Jackson and Jaxon and Jax'n

Maggie

Madison

Tyler

Taylor




And you thankfully never hear these anymore - I can't imagine naming a little baby any of these names, even knowing they won't be a baby forever.

Judy

Ruth

Barbara

Linda

Carol

Ethel

Gladys

Harold

Cathy (Not Catherine, Cathleen, etc. - just Cathy)

Alice

Nancy

Willard

Fred

Clarence

Lawrence, and any form of it

Walter

Albert

Arthur


My advice on avoiding ridicule or regret while naming your child:
1. Open the baby names book and really read it!

2. Research your family lineage and find something solid and timeless, even unusual.

3. Consider how the child will feel about the name at age 15, 20, 25, and 40!
and

4. When you hear a name you love while pregnant, buy it off the person who is "claiming" it. I bartered with a bad-ass NorthFace jacket for my daughter's name AND now my sister feels like she had a huge part in naming her - Win/Win!

I really like the name Harriet (sort of old school but cute and unusual) but I could not name a girl Harriet Hatcher! I also really liked Piper with middle name Jane - I mostly liked that it would become nickname initials of PJ like my sister BJ (for Bonnie Jean) but I am grateful we didn't use that. I loved Jack Robert (JR for short) but I wouldn't have been able to stomach how many Jax, Jack, Jackson, Jaxons there are now.

Do you think anyone is going to take President Nevaeh or President Jayden seriously in about 40 years?

So, tell me your baby names and why you chose them....
Also, since I've opened this can of worms, it's only fair to let you openly criticize my children's names. In case you haven't caught them in previous posts, they are first and middle:

William Anderson
Georgia Cate








O

MY kind of motivational speaker!

"Life is short! Enjoy it while you got it! Can't be gottdamn ungrateful all the time!"

Katt Williams opened his latest comedy set, "It's Pimpin' Pimpin'!", recorded in May 2008 in Washington D. C. with that quote. I want to steal that rhyme and shout it to the world, and specifically tattoo it on the inner eyelids of a few people I know. That quote is the perfect set-up for the following show.

I make a point to tune in for all his shows because I think he is relevant, incredibly funny, insightful, and fantastically secure and confident for having such an odd stature and a fucked up head of hair.

His motto for this latest show is "You gotta take care of your star playa" (meaning yourself) and his point was the obvious "If you don't take care of yourself, who will?" but moreover, his point was "...what good can you do in the world or for others if you can't take care of your own sorry ass..." I love how he preaches about self-esteem and fairness (including race and crime and being famous and being poor/underprivileged). He preaches not to sweat the haters because the hater is the joke. He preaches to just fucking get over shit and move on in life.
His outlook is always positive, and that is my kind of talk.

He is not afraid to be corny. He is terribly mouthy but so humble, peaceful, and just fucking cool. I would love it if someone thought all of that about me. Is it weird that I aspire to be like Katt Williams, sans gun toting charges? Ok, maybe a mixture of Katt Williams and Bill Cosby. Why do I want to be a middle aged black man?

Friday, January 23, 2009

It's good to be here.

I am glad...

...the unusual freeze is over and normal Tennessee winter weather is back.

...to have a toddler/pre-schooler free weekend.

...to have had a few responses on jobs I'm pursuing.

...I'm having a FREE facial tomorrow.

...I have a warm house, nourishing food, and healthy, mad-funny children.

...to have a sweet new baby nephew and another sweet not-so-newborn baby nephew.

...to have mapped out a diverse 5k running trail!

...to spend this evening with my friends.

...have a sister I love and miss so much.

...the sister I love and miss so much is so in love with a guy who is so in love with her.

...to have goals and aspirations!

...to let Wil think he's eating a "teeny, tiny s'getti sandwich" if he so pleases.

...to be the person Justin misses and looks forward to coming home to.

...to have such a kick-ass public library.

...to have a trip to Mexico on the distant horizon.

...to be here, breathing in and out, everday.









O

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Superpowers

Sometimes, I can just look at someone and KNOW their breath is awful.







O

Monday, January 19, 2009

Three mortifying days with a three year old heathen!

He is too smart for his own damn good. Wil has said/done the following things over the past three days. I always thought when I heard similar stories that someone had coached the child into the precocious thing he said or did but I know otherwise now.

On Saturday we were hanging out with my Grandparents, letting them spend time with the kids since we only see them a few times a year. My dad (Wil calls him Papa) was laying on the floor playing airplane with both kids. Wil was standing with his back to Papa playing with something on the table and Papa kept nipping Wil in the butt. Wil said "Stop it, Papa!" and my dad played coy, "What? I didn't do anything..." and Wil turned to keep playing. Papa did it again and played coy again - and Wil said "You're poking me in the ASS!" The killer was that he did not say it in a fresh mouth way, he was just using a word. He was annoyed with Papa, had no idea he even said a bad word! My jaw dropped and I stared at my grandmother who sorta laughed. Only in front of the Great Grandparents, right?!

On Sunday I was peeing while Wil was running around upstairs and he caught a glimpse of me finishing up on the pot. He said, "Mumma, do you pee out your butt?" I was honest but clinical as I explained that girls have vaginas and boys have penises. I verbally ran through an explanation where I matched his equipment up with Justin and Georgia's up with mine to give him a concept of the differences between boys and girls. He said "No, Mumma! Georgia has a penis too!"

On Monday Wil, Georgia and I were having breakfast (amazing scratch pancakes by Josh Jones) with Josh and Beej. We were seated around the dining room table in our pajamas and just chatting away. It was the one time during our visit to Nashville that Beej wasn't visible only from the eyes up (behind her laptop) and I wasn't chasing a wild ass kid around the house like a maniac - the first real quality time we'd all spent together. Wil stands up in his chair and says "Hey Uncle Josh, I have a big penis! See?" and pulls his thermal pants down and thrusts his hips forward. OH MY GOD!

How does Wil at age 3 even know that "big" is a preferred term with penis? Nobody talks to him about that stuff? He doesn't watch that kind of TV?

Beej LOST HER SHIT and laughed so hard she was snorting and hooting and heaving and crying. I snatched Wil up and took him into the bathroom, sat him down, and looked him in the eyes (trying so hard not to smile or laugh) and said "That was totally inappropriate behavior! You cannot show people your Penis at the breakfast table or anywhere else! It's private! You cannot do that..." and blah, blah, blah. He didn't miss a beat... He said "But Auntie BJ is laughing..." as if that made it okay. Hell, I was laughing! It was an impossible situation. Before we left the bathroom, I made him wash his hands.






O

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Suck it, Angelina Jolie!

I am disgusted by the elitism of Hollywood!


First of all, I wasn't even sure I believed that David Duchovny was ACTUALLY suffering from sex addiction when it made headlines that he checked into rehab last summer. I suspected it was a marketing strategy for Californication as opposed to a being side-affect of starring in that show. I was quite sure that in about 20 years he would reveal this little secret as being PR rather than a genuine personal problem. Why else would Tea Leone stand by, steadfast?


Secondly, what the fuck do I care what he does in his personal life? I sort of hate how the rehab affairs of celebrities are so public. It's literally the equivalent of rubber necking so you can see the gory details of a horrible car crash and then complaining how awful it was to see. That is a human life! He is a human being! It's rather indecent that there is a demand for this type of news, but clearly there is profit in this genre of information.


Third, who the F is Hollywood to snub him at the recent Golden Globe awards and look down on him "sadly"? It makes me like him or want to root for him even more!

Screw you Hollywood! All of you a-holes just need to jump on the indignant bandwagon already and quit acting! It's not as if any of you are saving the world either! Oh sorry! Except for you, Angelina! I forgot that you are Mother Theresa for the millenium. Please note, reader, I am being SO sarcastic, I can't stand Angelina - somebody needs to tell her that you can't buy grace, or dignity, not even in a third-world country.





O

Friday, January 16, 2009

Waiting in the bushes with my camera...

Justin is forever stealing lip balm from me. I normally use Burt's Bees or Neutrogena. I buy them in bulk because I am fairly addicted. It's a state of emergency if I can't get my hands on a stick. My lips start emitting actual flames and peeling in layers. I get coconuts about it even if I just applied some 5 minutes ago. To avoid this mess, I always keep a few tubes stashed in my purse and at least four others in various strategic areas of my house/desk/car.

Every Christmas, I get Justin a few of his own masculine tubes from Bath and Body Works and I warn him that at $7.50 per tube he better keep up with them like he does his wallet/cell phone, but he never does. Throughout the year, I buy him Carmex or some dude version of Blistex to keep him in stock. These lip balms are left untouched, on his dresser until they roll off the dresser into the worm hole underneath it. When we move, I expect to find a stash that I can re-gift in his Christmas stocking for years to come. It's something psychological... It's the same thing as Georgia preferring the food on my plate to the food on her plate even though it's the VERY SAME FUCKING FOOD!!

Invariably, I find MY precious tubes in odd places and when I uncap them to get a hit (upon sight of any lip balm, even in a movie, I immediately need some), the balm is mangled and mushy. It is actually dirty in the crease where the cap snaps on. It's as if he chewed on it for a minute, rubbed it on some sandpaper, and then rolled it through a dirty ashtray before leaving it for dead. I call them dead soldiers. IT REALLY PISSES ME OFF! It is wasteful and disgusting! Why are boys so damn gross!?

Burt's Bees makes a Shimmer Stick in some cute, very pale colors. I am resolving to use nothing but this brand/style because not only is it good stuff, and Justin will avoid it, but most especially because I KNOW the day will come when Justin's lips are burning off his face and he is so desperate for something that he'll use it! I'll be waiting in the bushes with my camera!

AHAHAHAHAAAAA!







O

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Bad AND Funny Parenting...

Since he turned 18 months old, Wil has been trying to give up his naps. We continued to push back and at least put him in his crib for quiet time if not actual sleep. Every month he got a little more wakeful and stubborn about not sleeping. On the days when I was lucky enough to trick him into sleep during naptime, he would lie in bed wide awake until 10 or 11pm, after being put to bed at 9pm.

I have to say that he normally sleeps a solid 12 hours at night, and doesn't wake until 8 or 8:30 am. Most of his classmates arrive at school by 7am, and many of them have been up for an hour at that point.

Contrary to popular belief in my family, I did NOT give up his naps easily. I tried everything! I really needed his naptime with a newborn baby around. I only finally gave it up once I realized I was spending a huge amount of my day (often 2 hours) fighting with a 2 year old who thought it was a very funny game to run out of his room, right into my waiting arms, only to have me put him right back in there - not matter how emotionless I tried to be. Often, he was more amped up from running and struggling with me after 30 minutes of naptime than he was when we went into his room. I blacked out his room in the most mortifying method: I taped a navy blue shower curtain liner to the glass of his windows, under a layer of plantation blinds which are covered by a double layer curtains. Oh, our neighbors totally love us for that one! I tried soothing stories, rocking him, and even lying down with him (although I firmly hated that one).

At times when I did get him to lie still in his bed, I would wait outside the door for labored breathing sounds and stillness. More than once I waited through complete stillness for 2 chapters of a book (at least 20 mins) and fully expected to celebrate my victory and when I'd peek in, DAMN if his eyes weren't open and now he saw me and the games begin again! I spent more time frustrated with Wil last summer than not, and the whole thing felt AWFUL.

Finally, I took the power away from him and stopped trying. If we didn't have a naptime to fight about, we could enjoy eachother more. I'm not sure he ever noticed it missing, other than both our moods improving. It also meant I put him to bed at least an hour earlier which was minor victory for me being a human being, not just a mom.

When he started pre-school I winced when I learned that by state law, the kids have to lie down (not necessarily sleep, but lie down) for a certain period each day. I figured he'd learn by watching the other kids. At first, he did okay but he slowly decended into no naps and playing the same games with his poor teachers. After many talks with the teachers, I was afraid he'd be asked to leave. One of the things the pre-school asked us to try was send notes in his lunchbox each day encouraging a nap. Justin and I take turns writing them, and sometimes I'll recruit Nana to do one just to keep it fresh for him.

Justin handed me the following note as I was packing Wil's lunchbox. I always feel a little intrusive if I read it, it seems private, but that is silly since the teachers have to read it to Wil. When I read it, I died laughing.



Clearly, it was a joke and Justin wrote another one for the lunchbox but we did post it on the refrigerator for amusement. Thankfully, Wil cannot read many words other than his name right now! I will put this is his baby book for his adult sense of humor!

PS: After the Christmas break, we started waking him up at 6 or 6:30am and putting him in our bed with the TV on PBS while we sleep for another hour or so. It works like a charm - he's totally taking naps at school now. SUCKER!




O

Monday, January 12, 2009

You think you know, but really you have no idea...

My best friend Amy and I have decided. The Office simply cannot be as funny for people who do not work in an actual office. Sure, we all identify and it's sortof funny even if you don't work in an office.

When you do work in an actual office, it's a 100% effective show. You nearly jump out of your skin it's so funny. It's all in the understated nuances and details that they portray so perfectly. You're missing so much unless you know these cues from working in an office.

Friday, January 9, 2009

I wanna be cool, tall, vulnerable, and luscious...

Kanye West's newest album 808s & Heartbreak is a crushing disappointment. It is SO reminiscent of the feelings I felt when taking in Liz Phair's 2005 album Somebody's Miracle.

I actually felt betrayed, maybe not by Liz or Kanye, but definitely by my senses. I felt my iPod's heart shudder with every new song during my initial listen. I always give an album from old faithfuls like these a fair number of passes before I really decide, but I think I already know.

In both cases, how do you put out consistently good and distinctively different albums for years on end, and then suddenly eek out a stubborn, cold, unyielding nugget of suck that no mother could love?

With Somebody's Miracle, I really, really tried to like it. I have LOVED every Liz Phair album prior to that and they all ranged in style - most distinctively 2003's self titled album where she got all shiny and mainstream. It was a bit Top40, but if you dismissed it for it's lack of indie integrity - you missed an amazing album, and seriously - get over yourself. We all have our fair share of embarrassing skeletons in our play lists (AHEM! Lionel Richie, anyone - Beej, anyone?!).

Incredibly, it took my local radio stations about a MONTH to realize she was saying FUCK in the song: "We haven't fucked yet but my head's spinning! Why can't I breathe..."

And hey, at least they're both brave enough to experiment. Most indie musicians or specialty artists could never sustainably bridge two markets (pop/country excluded but speaking of canned payola... oh never mind, I can feel the vomit rising).

Liz, you especially! I am still waiting for your recovery album. I have every confidence that it's coming, with others to follow. In your case, I think every blind squirrel finds a poison nut now and then. Let's hope...

Kanye, our relationship has less history than Liz and I. I find myself unconvinced but hopeful. I feel like you may deserve a pass after the freaky year you've had BUT... you remind me alot of a guy I know who continually uses every bad thing that happens to him as evidence that he is so much MORE of a tortured soul than anyone else on earth. His pain is worse than anyone else. His results are the highest anyone's ever seen. His outcomes are the most outrageous, it's indescribable. He cannot imagine that anyone can be as deep and as insightful as him. He imagines himself as being so isolated, so superior. HE IS EXHAUSTING. So, Kanye, go a little crazy, the year you've had warrants it - but then let it go OR move forward. Do not let this year further serve your sense of entitlement. You are not THAT talented, nobody is.




O

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Where you'll find me...

1. I love to decorate but I have committment issues and no budget dedicated to it so there are no curtains in any room in my house other than the kids' room. I do have white plantation blinds on every window.

2. I wish people still made mix discs like they used to make mix tapes back in the day. When was the last time you got a really good mix disc out of the blue and you actually giggled with anticipation waiting for the next track to begin?

3. If I was famous, I'd want to be like Gwen Stefani.

4. I fall more in love with Justin every day.

5. I love the F word and Diet Coke almost equally. I use the F word gratuitously despite how vulgar it probably is. I drink enough Diet Coke to feel like I need to quit. I have quit before and I will again. I really just love love them both, they're like old friends.

6. It's funny how friends, times, life shifts so continuously that these braids are made and sometimes you're the outside band and sometimes you're on the inside band. I love that I can truthfully say that I still count the same friends I had beside me when I was 15 as currently present although the degrees of presence are always fluctuating.

7. I like to believe that I am super-flexible and laid back but I suspect that I do not love change as much as I wish I did and I'm high strung (in all the right ways!).

8. I am pissed that Victorias Secret no longer carries laundry detergent. WHAT THE FUCK!?




O

Friday, January 2, 2009

Doing The Unstuck

I haven't been truly depressed since I was about 21. It started when I was about 19 and lasted about 18 months. I got help. I even took meds until it passed. My parents were super supportive. My friends stuck by me. Most days, I can barely remember it. I do remember it full force on days where depression threatens to darken my doorway again, but thankfully, those times are far and few between (maybe 2 or 3 days per year). It happens so rarely because following that depression, I learned alot about myself and what my triggers for depression are and smart ways for me to avoid them. Depression runs deep in my family so I constantly take proactive steps to stay ahead of that lurking shadow. I truly believe that decisions I make including the attitude I adopt about any given situation has more control over my brain than my family history does.

I dipped pretty low after Georgia was born and it FREAKED me out. It was such a huge contrast to how much joy I felt after Wil was born. The guilt of that contrast made me feel even more depressed. I mean, I'd just had a beautiful little girl and I could barely speak without hissing through gritted teeth. After I had Wil, my cheek muscles ached for MONTHS from the euphoric smiling. People probably thought I was high and I felt alot like I was. I was just so damn happy. Justin and I couldn't even wait the 4 weeks until my OBGYN gave us the green light... eeww! I know!

I knew it was not "normal" for me to feel that good all the damn time. We all wondered if motherhood just really agreed with me and maybe I'd found my purpose in life, and how damn ironic that it was motherhood. I truly enjoyed every moment of it.

That euphoria lasted until the morning sickness of Georgia's pregnancy set in - and after that passed, I felt my normal speed again. Not euphoric, but certainly not depressed. I was happy to be pregnant again, knowing it was probably the last time for us. I was relieved in alot of ways to be feeling normal again. Shiny-happy-Jessee was probably obnoxious.

I felt normal again, I was stressed at times, but no more so than during the pregnancy with Wil. I felt "normal" until about two weeks after I got home from the hospital with Georgia when things got dark. I never felt like a danger to myself or others, but I felt almost every other symptom underneath that on the post-partum depression warning poster. I could NOT stop crying.

When it was obvious that I wasn't snapping out of it, my mom, my sister, and my husband insisted that I go speak to someone. I just didn't want to. I totally support seeing a therapist and even taking meds when necessary, but I just didn't want to TALK. So instead of being verbal, I started exercising my head off!

If you know me, my choice to replace words with exercise was probably even more evidence that I was entirely off my rocker. I am active in general - there are times when I really embrace exercise in my life but I always fucking resent it. It pisses me off. Exercise and I remain respectful enemies. I know I need it, but I hate it the whole time. At one point, Amy and I used to take turns running to the stove to stir the cooking pasta between Tae Bo kicks and punches - so as not to delay dinner. But we totally took the Tae Bo seriously though. We (ok I) cut out photos of celebs from magazines and taped them up all around the living room as focal points for the punching and kicking spots.

I hadn't exercised with any regularity since before my pregnancy with Wil two years prior. Regardless, I decided I would try exercise before therapy. So - every day, I brought the kids to my Mom's and my Nike Free 5.0's (best running shoes in history), my iPod, and I really wrestled the demons out of me. It worked.

Week one: Strictly blind faith or fury - auto pilot
Week two: Noticeably better
Week three: I recognized myself again and laughed
Week four: I felt my version of "normal" again.


It felt really powerful to know I had the power to help myself like that. I've never identified with bulemia or anorexia being a way to control your environment but this exercise-to-fight-depression made it clearer to me. I was proud of myself for trying something else first when in my family, it seems that medicating (self or otherwise) seems to be the preferred method of dealing with emotional issues.

Whenever I think of that time after Georgia's birth AND/OR the time I was so depressed between 19 and 21, a song literally floods my brain... It's called Doing The Unstuck by The Cure:

kick out the gloom
kick out the blues
tear out the pages with all the bad news
pull down the mirrors and pull down the wall
stear up the stairs and tear up the floors
oh just burn down the house!
burn down the street!
turn everything red and the beat is complete
with the sound of your world going up in fire
it's a perfect day to throw back your head
and kiss it all goodbye

I am singing this song today...



O

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Drug Addicts are STUPID!

Every time I tune in to A&E's Intervention, I wonder how on earth these dumbasses "...agree to be in a documentary about addiction..." but "...do not know they will soon face an intervention."

This show is FAMOUS!? If I was an addict, I'd totally watch it if for no other reason than to gather new addict ideas.

At first I thought: Duh! Drug addicts don't remember to pay their cable bill! But COME THE F ON! If your closest family and friends are familiar enough with the show to have secured your dumbass a starring episode, you MUST have at least heard of it before.

I guess it's the mind-set of only hearing what you want to believe and disregarding the rest. I am sure that deep down, these people want attention and help for whatever their problems are so even the information they are disregarding consciously is being received subconsciously but SERIOUSLY?! HOW DO YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING? They cannot all be such talented actors...

I know if I ever see the cameras headed my way, I'ma run my ass off in the opposite direction!




O

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Mother / Son bathroom bonding...

My friend Dave has always laughed at me for doing this "sales" thing to him when we are just hanging out talking. He accuses me of offering up an idea and then nodding vehemently and at the very end of my idea, I slightly shrug my shoulders, while still nodding, to gain the listeners buy in.

It would go like this: "I don't know why everyone underestimates Gen X'ers, particularly late Gen X'ers by saying we are bitter, we have no identity, and no idea what to do for a living. I think [nod] people labeled us that after the grunge movement but before we [nod, nod] were at an age to actually be decidedly entrenched in careers. How can you make a generalization [nod, nod, nod] like that about a group of people who were still [nod, nod, nod, nod] under 25 at the time. Check [nod, nod, nod, nod, nod] those statistics now. We were just purposefully slow starters and late [shrug while still nodding] bloomers."

So this morning, I was getting Wil and Georgia ready to leave the house and Wil was taking a big dump. Once he finally finished the dump portion of his visit to the potty, he was able to pee. While peeing, he said "Mumma, Pee is gross...!" all the while nodding with a slight shrug at the end while still nodding to gain my buy in on his statement thought. He just turned 3 last month.

I left Dave a voicemail on my way to work, thanking him for pointing that out all these years if for no other reason than I was able to recognize the moment....

Also, Dave is ALWAYS amused by my writing style. He says he can picture me talking to myself as I write, and that all I'm actually doing is writing down conversations I have with myself. He thinks I'm wordy, but ususally interesting and funny enough to pull it off. I think of him alot when I edit myself. I'm okay with this.


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Thursday, December 25, 2008

Merry Christmas

Justin thinks it's wildly entertaining that I know every word to just about every Christmas Carol ever published. He likes to find new or obscure ones and test me. It's rare that I don't know it. I can't really say why this is. I suppose it is just my freaky memory, and I've always liked Christmas music.

When Justin knows I'm not in the mood for the game, he'll goad me into it like this:

Justin sings loudly: "Christ! It's cold in Bethlehem. Warming to the newborn king!"

Fully knowing I will correct him and sing: "Christ was born in Bethlehem, glory to the newborn king!"

I have to admit, this year was the first year I'd really heard or noticed the verse including the lyric "Bring us some Figgy Pudding..." in the standard"We Wish You A Merry Christmas!"








O

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Consistency is a BITCH!

After the Diet Coke blog, as I often do, I examined why I even thought so hard about it...


I have a heightened sense of alertness and perception at all times. It's a burden as much as a strength. My brain feels responsible for tracking and keeping up with everything, and organizing that information constantly with a sub-disease of trying hard not to be wasteful. It drives my sister nuts - she has the opposite ability to just fucking buy more paperclips when you can't remember where you put the last box a thousand years ago. Me? I misplace the paperclips but if I concentrate and picture it in my brain, I can conjure up the memory of where it is. This is not instinct or organization, it is literally recalling a picture in my mind's eye, even if I haven't physically seen the item in years.

My husband has learned to use my filing system for his own benefit, but I pity him at times too because it demands consistency and he has absolutely none. Oddly, his random mind is a huge part of why we're good for eachother but if it weren't for his pure heart, genuine personality, and total honesty he'd never be able to stand me.


School was always a breeze and it's a great quality for work because I never have to ask the same question twice.


I have to physically force myself to LET GO at times. I should have LET GO of that wasted can of Diet Coke. I didn't.

My brain is always counting things and I don't even realize it until something goes missing. My husband can ask me where one of his hundred blue Bic pens is and I know exactly which one he means and exactly where he left it 3 months ago. I am like a Navigation system, I am utterly unable to get lost, even when I want to.

It is consuming brain activity, but most days, I am unable to stop it. This happens with or without my cooperation. I am able to reign it in and/or let it out at times where it can be helpful or appropriate, but I cannot stop it. So, I make every effort to use it for good instead of evil.

Most regretably, I cannot guarantee that this character flaw of mine won't get you in trouble with me someday. Although I make a point of keeping the results of identified inconsistencies to myself unless they are earth-shattering in nature, it does happen.


Case in point: You should not vehemently agree with me that racism is an abhorrent, uneducated, and disgusting point of view and then 12 years later, look over your shoulders and the proceed to use the N word in my presence. It will cause me to evaluate the truthfulness of everything else you've ever said to me. Sorry. I didn't mean to remember that conversation from 12 years ago when you gushed "tolerance if not acceptance" and shit like that.


I'm pretty sure your apetite for or comfort level with the N word is not something that increases with age and wisdom, which means you've always felt that way, but you faked it for my sake at one point in time.



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Tuesday, December 23, 2008

I am uncontrollably meticulous and thirsty...

Thirsty as ever, I grabbed a fresh Diet Coke as I was leaving the house to do some annoying errands today. I got a few miles away before I realized I'd left my crack, I mean, Diet Coke, in the garage while I was loading annyoing errand crap into the car.

Immediately upon this realization, I became psychotically thirsty. I saw mirages of hot, sandy deserts and dusty camels. My toungue felt thick and heavy, and my nose could distinctly remember the tingle that comes with the first few tingly sips of a pristine Diet Coke. I considered driving back home for it, knowing it was wasteful to let it get flat and warm while I did annoying errands.

Soon enough, rational thought returned and I just bought another Diet Coke. But when I got home, I made a point of locating the original can and I finished that one too. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!






O

Monday, December 22, 2008

I'll trade money for happiness...

I mentioned in a previous post (Did you just call me a statistic?!) how cutting back on work to be home with the kids had a huge impact on our marriage. I've been thinking alot about that....

Justin and I have always done all the household chores/shopping together. It's not because we're some disgusting, hyper-organized, efficient couple who cannot be away from eachother. It actually started as this quirky habit while we were dating. The quirky habit is rooted in Justin's love of meandering the aisles at SUPER stores. He does it artfully, there is no timeframe -just browsing and shopping and checking stuff out. Never the mall, only SUPER stores. It's a study of pop-culture or something. It's soothing to him. Anyway, he has always done his grocery shopping on Sundays. I would join him when I spent weekends at his place. Eventually we were living together and it just became this thing our friends laughed at us for: "Oh, nevermind, can't do the cookout on Sunday, that's SHOPPING day! Hahahaha!".

Once we moved in together, I took over the laundry and most of the cleaning - Justin can't do either one for shit and I find these tasks cathartic and theraputic. Justin still contributed in ways that were a challenge and a risk for him. He (sort of) made the bed, he put laundry in the correct baskets, he took trash out, and made every attempt to embrace a whole new concept of not making a mess and leaving it. And most importantly, Justin knew that being inept did not exempt him from participation - he was always respectful enough to linger and keep me company until I released him. In a perfectly unplanned trade off, he took on most of the cooking duties. So, we were a modern couple from day one! We liked to make eachother's lives easier and play on our strengths. It was nice... until I went part-time at work.

Justin and I always agreed that if we were going to have kids, one or the other of us was going to be there with them as much as we could afford to do it. There was a time when we half considered Justin being that parent.

I knew before I tried to transition from career girl to mom, I knew that many women struggle with it. I was braced for it, and we tried to approach it realistically knowing that I very much define myself by my professional success and my career. Many people think it's a vacation to be allowed to stay home with kids. For me, it was a "sacrifice", but it was something I would absolutely do for my children. There is nothing I wouldn't sacrifice for myself to give to my children. Now, DO NOT tell my children that, they'll get a big head! They'll realize it all in good time. In fact, that's how I'll know I did a good job!

In that previous post, I mention the tangeable shift in power when I reduced my work to part time. I did this power shift thing to myself. Justin never made me feel less important or expendable, but I definately made myself feel that way. Nobody pats you on the head and says "Good girl! You got all the laundry done with two sick kids underfoot!". Being at home did a number on my head. Nothing to qualify or quantify me? How will I know I'm doing it right? I was a validation junkie...

A few years before our first child, Justin's business started generating sustainable profits and that had alot to do with deciding I could work just part time. Since that time, Justin has been working 6 days per week and is often gone for more than 12 hours per day. His days normally start at 6am. He is dead tired by the time he hits the door and eats my crappy dinners. He can barely stay awake past 9pm. Most nights, he follows the kids to bed.

On the plus side, when he comes in after work, he immediately cuddles and loves all over the kids and we all kick it in the kitchen while he helps with dinner. On the minus side, when bath / bed time arrives he is ready for a break and wanders off to something else, leaving it all to me just as my breaking point for the day is approaching. After several months of this, I finally started dragging him back by the ear to help me until he got the hint. Incidentally, this dragging by the ear of a tired man by a frustrated woman adds sich a nice, warm feeling to the kids' bedtime routine.

"Hint" was the problem. He is so tired, he deserves the break. For a long time, I did everything myself. I did it in the hopes that at alternate points, he would do the same for me. I was forgetting that he is a dude. He cannot read my hopeful-ass mind, I know this (sometimes).

I felt too guilty to ASK him so I hinted... Oh my god! I became that girl. I hated to burden him to stay involved in the routine just a liiittle bit longer, that way we could both get to our downtime faster. I felt guilty asking him to help around the house, even on weekends. I felt guilty about asking him to unload the dishwasher. I felt petty about feeling so rageful that this man who I'd coached so well for 10 years was reverting back to dropping his dirty clothes beside the bed or the shower. I let all this crap load up on me, all while taking over the bookkeeping and office duties for his business, in addition to my own part time work.

I felt that standard "lonely for adult interaction" feeling. I eventually came to appreciate the evenings, when they all went to bed and I had a few hours to myself, but I was lonely. With him working so hard, I made a point to take over the grocery shopping, take over the cleaning altogether, and many other little tasks like this that we used to share. I did this so that when he was home, we weren't rushing in different directions trying to keep up with it all. So that he could hang out with us, so we wouldn't drift and develop different lives as so often happens.

The more I took on, the more my expectations of him lowered and lowered. He had less and less responsibility and was not at all engaged in the household. He became spoiled and irrelevant and uninterested. I did that to him. I thought I was doing us all a favor but really I created a monster, and I resented it. By last summer, I wanted to run away just so he would know how much work I did. I knew it was childish to want to "prove" something, but how else would he know to appreciate me?!??

In the past few months, his business, like so many, is way off - in fact, the damn thing is nearly shut down. Justin has been around alot more. It's an adjustment for all of us but if there is a silver lining to the economic downturn, it's that we love having him around AND his appreciation level for what I go through at home is way back up to where it used to be.

When he walks around dusting the living room, he can see for himself how badly the walls need to be painted. When he sweeps the floor, he can see how much damage Lucy has done to the wood floors. He cannot believe how many times per day you have to sweep the kitchen, so now - he remembers, without fail, to take those mud caked boots off so he won't poop on his own hard work. He knows the kids and their moods more intimately. And my personal fave: Sometimes I get to be the good cop now that he is around so much that he actively disciplines the children too.
I forgot about the importance of pride in ownership. I forgot that you own a thing more when you build it yourself. You care more when you stay involved. We feel more like ourselves these days and I am way less stressed...




O

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Is that how you see me?!

How do I tactfully and respectfully handle inappropriate job leads?

At the beginning of December, my company informed me, with heavy heart, that I will be laid off as of January 2nd.

When this happened, I took the advice of experts at http://www.pongoresume.com/ among others and I reached out to my personal and professional network with my resume and asked for their assistance in my search for the right job.

It ABSOLUTELY worked. I am so grateful to have my "network" beating the streets for me however, I am being inundated with leads for jobs that even if I wanted to, I could not entertain.
I think their gesture of mentioning that their Dental Office is hiring a receptionist is so kind and warm. I would never want to offend them by saying I not only need more challenge professionally (alot more), I also need more money for my family situation and frankly, my experience is worth more money than that.

How do I tell my husband's aunt that the cashier position at the local supermarket that she found for me won't cut it. She means well, and in her day - this would be a great job for a young, busy mom. She is all kinds of country and old timey. She says Extry, not Extra, as in, "Does he wear a large or an extry-large?!" She asks you to "study on what all I can get y'ins for Christmas!" and she has more money than T. Boone Pickens. She borrowed a dress to wear to our wedding. She is eccentric and old school and would think I'm just too big for my britches if I tried to explain that I am one of THOSE modern style women who has a CAREER, not just a job. When she checks back in with me and asks, "Did you go down there and fill out an application?!" I feel guilty whether I say Yes or No.

Many of these wonderful people (rightfully so) have no idea how much I make now, or have made before I landed here 7 years ago however they all know how talented, resourceful, and savvy I am at work. Many of these folks are in positions similar to the ones they're recommending.

Here is why it confounds me: If my boss was losing his job - I would NEVER presume that he could just go work as data entry clerk. I would assume he would look for something equal to what he earns/does now, wouldn't you?

Here is how I have been responding when these people are thoughtful enough to mention one of these positions: I thank them and let them know I'll look into it and then I give them a copy of my resume. I hand off the resume partly to encourage them to continue to think of me, but also to urge them to read between the lines a bit and see my depth of experience.

I may reach a point where one of these positions is going to save my family but until I am there, how do I avoid offending them while being honest?






O
Help!

Friday, December 19, 2008

I'm currently having...

I'm currently having the following love/hate relationships:


Kanye West
I love him - he is MAD talented, he has MAD style, he is not afraid to be himself
I hate him - he is arrogant, smug, and has an attitude of total entitlement


My CAR
I love it - the luxury, the speed, the creature comforts, the wood grain in the steering wheel
I hate it - we are so upside down on it


The BITCH who brought in a fresh Christmas batch of Krispy Kremes to the office
I love her - it was the perfect pick me up for a dreary, damp, freakishly warm day
I hate her - I'm on my second one in 2 hours


Georgia's BRITAX carseat
I love it - it is SO FUCKING easy to install, it is truly a life-changing car seat
I hate it - it smells like fresh puke despite several washings of the cover and all reachable parts following last evenings barf fest

My brother
I love him - he is my brother, he is an amazing person and artist, he is hilarious, I hate him - he really hurts my feelings








O